The Rise of Redsight
by Karma's Best Friend
Summary: Mossflower is shaken to its core when the vermin horde of Arrak Redsight does the unthinkable: overthrows Redwall Abbey. Can Mosca and Tarnic, two young hares from the mountain of Salamandastron, help their friends regain their home?
1. Prolouge

A/N: I love the Redwall series, but this is my first time writing it. Hope its well received!

Arrak Redsight!

The name alone was enough to strike fear into all but the bravest of creatures. Some say that the snowy white fox was cursed by a Seer, bleaching the red color from all except his eyes. Others reckon that he had a Pure Ferret in his bloodline. Not that they ever lived long enough to spread these theories of they saw the fox himself.

Arrak Redsight and his mighty horde conquered all! To battle with them was certain death!

Like a tide of doom, Arrak and his horde swept out of the badlands to the far north. Slaying and plundering all that they met, indiscriminate of whether they were peaceful woodland creatures or fellow vermin, they swept on with one goal in mind.

Take the Abbey of Redwall for their own! King Arrak the Mighty! Ruler of all!

Yes, the fight was long and bitter. The Redwallers gave as well as they got, of course, and in the final battle Arrak lost his tail to the ferocious steel of Martin the Warrior's blade. He lost a tail, but Sindra the Abbey Warrior lost her life! After this, Abbot Coriander lost heart. He gave the abbey over to the marauding fox, providing the survivors were granted safe passage to the haven of the badger mountain, Salamandastron!

\Of course Arrak took the deal! Now he rules from his mighty sandstone forest! Hail Arrak Redsight, the Ruler of Mossflower! He was right to let those idiotic creatures to live. After all what threat could they possibly produce?

Soon Queen Sistral will bear our King a son. An then the future will truly belong to him, while he holds a heir in his arms! Slaves are to be found in plenty in these woods, and they are being used alongside the captured Redwallers to build us a castle, even greater then this pitiful Abbey!

_The ink after this point is illegible and dripping, possible from a flagon of plundered October Ale being spilled on the parchment._

_So dictated to Bena Longtail, former Recorder of Redwall Abbey_


	2. Night Travels

A/N: Hope I did an okay job with the hare accents. Had a copy of Eulalia! on hand for research.

Stars were shining over the mountain stronghold of Salamandastron. On the beach, a lone squirrel was setting out on foot, a haversack on his back and a sword on his hip. Suddenly, two fleet figures detached from the base of the mountain and sprinted across the sand after the squirrel.

"Mosca! Let go of me!"

The young squirrel spun indignantly to confront his pursuers, a pair of lanky hares. The taller one placed her paws akimbo as she leaned over and glared at him, the double-ended javelins she wore on her back coming dangerously close to pricking his nosetip.

"Well, if'n it isn't the bold Koradan. What the devil are y' doin out here at this hour, eh? Speak up! Quick's the word and sharp's the action, wot wot!"

Koradan glowered up at the hare. "I'm going to slay that mouldy excuse for a vermin who's soiling my Abbey and avenge my mother, Sindra the Warior!" He made to continue off on his trek, but was stopped by the paw of Mosca's brother, Tarnic.

"Oh no 'y ain't, laddie buck! We jolly well aren't going to stand by and watch you get massacred! That fox has more vermin then there are' grains of sand on the beach!"

All the fight suddenly went out of Koradan, his tail drooping dispiritedly.

"Y,know what, you guys? You're right. I wouldn't have a hope." The tall haremaid's glace softened, and she gave her brother a small nod behind Koradan's back.

She let him advance several steps back towards the mountain before she called out. "I must be a confounded pollywoggle to suggest it, but with two trained Long Patrol hares and a lot of bally luck, you just might make it!"

The change in the young squirrel was almost electric. He spun to face Mosca and Tarnic, his brush standing straight on end. "D'you really means it, Mosca?" Tarnic snorted, his ears standing erect. "Of course she means it, y'rip, would we offer otherwise? We need to get our vittles, first, o'corse."

Mosca tipped them a cheery wink and began to sprint back towards Salamandastron, calling back "I'll be in charge 'o that job, wot wot!" The two remaining questers waited impatiently, moving only as the incoming tide wetted their paws.

---POV Change---

The great Badger Lord Oakpaw lay in sleep, dreaming the dreams of prophets. He saw Redwall Abbey, its walls crumbling to dust and collapsing upon the lone mouse in armor that remained within its walls. The large male badger tossed and growled, fighting the horde of Redsight in his sleep.

He dreams culminated with a great battle, not from the past or even the present, but a tale of what was yet to come. Koradan, the Sword of Martin the Warrior in his paws, blood flying off the mighty blade. Tarnic, his teeth bared, stabbing out left, right, and center with a pair of matched daggers. Mosca, the broken javelin she was wielding in both paws wreaking havoc upon the foebeasts. And behind them, numerous other creatures, shrews, hares, mice, even a pair of massive young badgers. All of them were fighting for one sake: to rid Mossflower of this sudden and wrathful bane.

---POV Change---

Mosca wound her way into the depths of Salamandastron, heading straight for one of her favorite places. The kitchens! Sneaking past the slumbering night cook, asleep on a half- empty barrel of elderberry wine, she filled a pair of haversacks with traveling food. As an afterthought, she packed a sturdy looking kitchen knife into hers. Just in case of emergencies.

She rejoined with Koradan and Tarnic, the former tapping his footpaw impatiently. Slinging her brother one of the packs and shouldering the other, she rapped out "Alright, quick march. Left right left, wot wot!"

They took the rise of the dunes with nary a look back, heading for the woods. Maybe if they had chanced a look, they would have seen the pack of vermin coming after them!

---POV Change---

"Gar, how much younger do yew t'ink were gonna follow dem?"

This ill-timed grumble came from the back of the gang of vermin, and the leader, an overlarge ferret, immediately spun and kicked out at the unfortunate rat, named Splitfur. "As long as it takes, yew t'ick mudbrain bunglepaws!"

The rat cowered under the blows, squealing out pleas for mercy. "Arr, please, Mingol, I din't mean it!" The bad- tempered ferret cuffed him around the ears. "Shushurrup, you know the rules. Anything that comes out 'o that mountain is fair game. We need to take dem to Redsight."

The scout, a stoat named Durgar, chose this moment to come back, saving the loud- nouthed rat from more wounds. "They've stopped for a rest." Mingol grinned, drawing a rusty looking cutlass. "Den whadda you say we pay dem a liddle visit?"


End file.
